more to you than what meets the eye
by Roni-chan
Summary: you thought you might be a ghost / you didn't get to heaven but you made it close. (GouFubu, dark themes, revolving around DID and how I think it should have been treated, if Inazuma was a show for older people.)


**A/N:** I apologize for writing this piece of fanfiction. Unlike most of my inazuma fanfics I've posted so far, I wrote this solely for my own satisfaction. I really disliked the way Fubuki's DID was treated in the series, because it's not even remotely close to how it works in real life. I tried to do it a little more justice; you guys be the judge of how much I managed. (Partly based on first- and second-hand experiences with people who have DID themselves.)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Inazuma Eleven. I own the pleasure it gives me.

* * *

**more to you than what meets the eye**

-o-

_those who are dead,_  
_are not dead,_  
_they're just living in my head..._

-o-

Being taught how to be assertive is not enough, in the end. He knows that - he always have known, but he never really knew what to do, and nor does he know now, because nobody has ever told him, and... well, he's just a mid-teens kid, nothing more; at times like these, he is painfully aware of that fact.

It's not enough, not nearly, even though he is grateful. To have people like Gouenji, who somehow saw through him in an instant, there on that rainy afternoon under the bridge, sensing how the words _'I have to become perfect' _actually meant _'I'm scared of being alone'_. Gouenji doesn't let him be alone a whole lot, true, and sometimes it feels really, _really _good, but at other times, it's annoying him, because, in the end, nothing has really changed, and it's so hard to keep up that front.

"You have to act more like me, all right?" he mutters into his pillow every night, trying to fight back the tears, yet knowing it's a losing battle anyways, because he always gets the same reply, and it's enough to make him break all over again. _"Why, what's wrong with me being me?" _Atsuya asks, and Shirou just tugs his covers over his head and tries to choke off any sounds that might escape him, because there are people sleeping in rooms on either side of his in the training camp, and if they found out... "Nothing..." he whispers for the hundredth time. "Nothing, but... I don't want them to think something's wrong with me. I... don't want to worry them anymore." Which isn't entirely true, and they both know that, but that's exactly why it doesn't need to be said out loud. _"This way, we can both play to our heart's content, hmm?" _Atsuya says softly, and Shirou just nods into his pillow.

He never really sobs. Maybe he doesn't even remember how to, not anymore. He only knows how to cry in silence, because his pain was always something that was better off hidden; nobody really cared enough, nobody cares enough _now _either, or they would have **noticed**. In broad daylight, things always manage to seem a little bit better, because the rest of them are there, and it's easy to smile - easier than it used to be, he has to admit -, but then he always ends up in a room where the only breathing he can listen to is his own, and it's not soothing enough to lull him to sleep, unlike his twin brother's used to be.

Something _did _change, of course; but while the rest of Raimon believes it was Shirou, overcoming his troubles and his fears, in reality, _Atsuya _is the one who ended up adapting. _"Niisan, I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry I was so selfish,"_ he repeats every night, and even though he tries to be apologetic, all it does is make Shirou want to cry even harder. "My weakness isn't your fault, it's me who isn't able to let you go," is his reply every night, and Atsuya just sighs in resignation, and pushes Shirou out of the way - because, in the end, he is _still _the stronger one - just long enough to wipe the tears away from his big brother's face, and tighten the covers around him a little more, as if in replacement for the scarf he doesn't wear anymore, before retreating again to let them fall asleep.

Sometimes, Shirou questions **everything **that there is to question. And all those times, he gets the same replies from Atsuya, but they don't satisfy either of them, so time and again, he returns to the subject, even though he knows he hasn't really changed, nothing really changed since the last time. "Why are we stuck together? Are you real? Shouldn't you have moved on, with Mom and Dad?" But Atsuya doesn't really know. How could he know, when Shirou doesn't? They are supposed to be one and the same, after all. And yet, somehow, they still _aren't_, and it's far beyond their comprehension. _"I'm here with you, Niisan. You're supposed to be happy about that," _Atsuya remarks sarcastically, and the only reason Shirou's reaction is a simple sigh is that he knows he's crying too much already as is. Truthfully, he cannot deny the fact that he's glad to have Atsuya with him. How could he not? How could _anyone _ask him not to be? He _lost him_. He lost them all. He lost everyone important to him when he was too young to even retain most of his happy memories with them; as he grew, most of them have slipped through the gaps in his mind, and now pretty much all he has is the Atsuya in his head - the Atsuya he will **not **give up, not that easily.

And Atsuya is compliant, because he - whatever he really is - knows not doing so will only end in Shirou being hurt again, and he also has a memory of his own (or so it seems, but Shirou really isn't sure) of what it felt like when Shirou finally dug his heels in and refused to let him come forward. (In the end, of course, Shirou was the one that broke from the effort, but Atsuya remembers the strain on both of them, and it is not a fond memory, definitely not worth remembering.) He acts a little more like Shirou, and Shirou acts a little more like Atsuya, and everyone believes it means he has broken out of his cage.

Nobody ever realizes that when Shirou gets a little more assertive or courageous, it's still really just Atsuya - with the only difference that this time around, Shirou doesn't mind. Perhaps that's exactly _why _they don't notice. After all, it's almost the same thing as that merge they were talking about; Atsuya, despite not being great at defending, actually gives Shirou a bit of his own strength into Snow Angel, and of course, Wolf Legend and Thunder Beast both use both of their power. It took a lot for them to get to the point where they don't fight each other anymore, but now that it's achieved, neither of them wants to let it go anymore. _You're not alone now_, is what Gouenji said, and trutfully, Shirou is glad to know that, but friends and family are two different things, and anyways - isn't this the same thing as before, just the other way around? When he first met Raimon, all they wanted was the ace striker, who turned out to be Atsuya - now all they want is Shirou, and even if they only have the best intentions, _Atsuya is still there_, and Shirou has a hard time forgiving the fact that nobody ever realizes that sheer fact.

* * *

It's raining again, and Shirou is not sure why he's outside. Every lightning makes him flinch, the thunder following afterwards clatters his teeth together, and he's completely soaked, hair sticking to his face, into his eyes, but he keeps aiming for the empty goal - of course, the practice together has long since ended -, his shoots powered by the full might of Atsuya. Talking to him on late nights, it's nice, in a certain way, but it still makes Shirou feel like Atsuya is separate, hidden deep inside him, and no matter how hard he reaches out for him, all he can achieve is hearing his voice, or making him come forward and switch with him entirely while Shirou sinks into dysphoria and curls up into a tiny ball deep inside the recesses of his own battered mind. On the field, as his foot connects to the ball, it feels all much more alive, much more _connected_; Atsuya's desire to shoot fuels him, and he really does sometimes feel as if they're almost merged.

Almost.

"That's an unusually hard look on your face."

The ball misses the goal entirely, for the first time this afternoon, and lands in a particularly deep puddle. Fubuki struggles to at least keep his balance, but fails with that as well; he probably overexerted himself a little bit, because he feels his legs give out underneath him, seemingly just out of the sheer surprise that just ran through him. Before he could hit the ground, though, someone grabs him by the arm, and tugs him upwards, and the rain seems to be gone all of a sudden - glancing upwards, the white-haired boy can once more confirm what he already knew by the voice: Gouenji Shuuya is standing next to him with an umbrella.

"A-ah, thank you, Gouenji-kun," he manages to stutter, trying to stand on his own two feet without help, only to find he can't really do it. His first thought, of course, is his brother, but the answer he instantly gets is not the preferred one. _Sorry, Niisan... we overdid it a bit. _And still, Shirou is standing - because Gouenji is there, solidly, with a rather strict expression on his face, and before the shorter boy's legs could completely give in, he feels his arm being thrown around the other's shoulder, Gouenji's free arm wrapping around his waist to secure him. He is being led to the bench, secured by a tiny roof above, so the rain doesn't hit them quite as hard as before. Shirou is leaning forward, panting, staring at his trembling knees, not moving even when Gouenji wraps a towel around his shoulders.

"You've grown a lot, in terms of strength," Gouenji says quietly, his voice barely heard over the pitter-patter above their head. Shirou smiles to himself, and reaches up to begin rubbing his hair dry with the towel. "So why are you still pushing yourself so hard?" comes the inquiry, and he glances up, surprised. "You shouldn't overdo it, you know." Underneath the layer of the strict (and, frankly, a little bit intimidating) teammate, Shirou can detect the worry of a friend, and it elicits a small sigh, although his smile still stays. He can almost literally hear the unsaid words, _you remember what happened last time you pushed yourself too hard, right?_

"Don't worry about me, Gouenji-kun," he replies in a light voice. "I'm not doing anything I'm not capable of. I just felt like kicking the ball a little more, that's all." And that's not even an actual lie.

There's a pause. "Something is still wrong," Gouenji states then, and this time around, Shirou has to strain his ears to actually make the words out, they've gotten so soft. He turns to face his friend, the one who has once already dragged him up from Hell, because _could he have realized? _(the thought is enough to make him feel as if blood is freezing in his veins), and he meets with Gouenji's face being a lot closer than he's anticipated. His dark eyes are full of concern, and a kind of softness that's unusual from the other striker. "I can feel it," he continues, and all the words get stuck in Shirou's throat halfway through out. "But I don't know what it is, and that's driving me crazy, you know?"

He's too close, and Shirou's heart seems to be pounding in his throat, because this is something new to both him and to his brother, and he's not sure he's-... "I care about you a lot, Fubuki-kun," Gouenji murmurs, and the next moment, his lips brush against the other's.

"_**NO!**_" Something akin to terror is erupting in Shirou's mind the moment the sensation reaches his brain, and he pushes Gouenji away with both palms, with such force that the ace striker falls on his back on the bench, and as Shirou jumps up from his seat, the towel falls into the dirt. His chest is heaving as Gouenji stares up at him, utter confusion mixing with hurt in his eyes, and upon that sight, keeping it to himself is just thrown to the wind, and he blurts, "_Which of us _did you mean to say that to?!"

The realization dawning on Gouenji and making his eyes widen also make Shirou's knees begin to tremble again. "You mean, you're still-... But, _why_?"

"What do you mean why?!" Shirou finds himself yelling, and as his emotions break through the dam, he can also feel himself slipping a little, bright orange flashing in his eyes as his voice mingles together with Atsuya's. "You would tell me to throw my brother away, all I have left of my family?!" _You'd tell me to leave Shirou alone? _Gouenji is speechless - but even if he knew what to say, there would be nobody listening, for his feet finally give out beneath Fubuki, and he collapses into the dirt, unconscious.

* * *

He's laying on his bed when he comes to his senses once again. He feels too dizzy to think about how he got there (although, really, the answer is kind of obvious), or things like how he is still covered in mud, and he will need to change his sheets later on, not to mention take a shower, and do laundry. Dizziness here or there, though, he cannot help noticing he isn't alone. As he shifts on the bed a little bit, the sight of Gouenji instantly catches his eyes - and likewise, his movement alerts the other to him being awake, and the other turns to face him. Shirou is shocked to see that the spiky-haired boy's eyes are slightly red-rimmed; and they just stare at each other for a couple of seconds, without either of them saying a thing.

Then finally, Gouenji is the one who opens his mouth; his voice is low and soft, yet he can be heard clearly this time, even though the rain is still pounding against the window. "I wouldn't."

"... Huh?" Shirou blinks, confused, and attempts to sit up, but it takes a little more effort than anticipated, and all he manages is to prop himself up on his elbows. "What do you mean, Gouenji-kun...?"

"I wouldn't make you throw family away," Gouenji repeats in a low voice, and there is something strange about the way he says it - still, Shirou is happy to hear such a thing, and responds with a smile. "If it were real, I wouldn't." The smile disappears. "But I only see one person here, and one person can only have one mind, in the end."

_**He doesn't get it at all**_, Shirou and Atsuya think in unison. But Gouenji isn't quite done yet, not even as he can see the other's lower lip beginning to tremble.

"Maybe you feel like your brother is still with you and didn't die... but looking at you from here, it's more as if you willingly died alongside him."

_He really doesn't understand anything_, the thought turns so bitter in Shirou's mind he can feel the taste of the bitterness on his lips, and before he can stop himself, he's yelling at Gouenji again. "Well, maybe that would have been better! I wish I would have!" For a split second, seeing the pure shock reflecting in Gouenji's brown eyes makes him feel something very close to actual satisfaction - but the next moment, he just wants to cry, more than he's ever wanted to before.

Gouenji's fingers around his wrist are firm in their grip, and yet there is a gentleness to the motion that is only Gouenji's, and Shirou can't help but look up at him, even though he wanted to hide the way his vision has begun to swim with tears. "I told you," Gouenji reminds him softly, "you're not alone anymore."

_No, don't. Please, don't._

"It's not about being alone!" Shirou tears his hand away from the other striker's, and backs up against the wall. "I just want _my family _back!"

"... but you know that's impossible." Why, oh, why is Gouenji, kind and compassionate Gouenji, so merciless to him right now? What does he wish to achieve? "I thought you had the strength to move on. Maybe I was mistaken."

A clean stab to the heart; Shirou's pain right now is so intense that he literally cannot take it; he just lets go and runs away, not even caring that with this, too, he is only proving Gouenji's point. He cannot take on Gouenji, not like this; it needs Atsuya, brash and foul-mouthed Atsuya, the brother that always fought at the front, and had his big brother looking after his back. "You just said you care about him!" Atsuya all but snarls at Gouenji, who literally recoils from the sight of the yellow eyes - he wouldn't have thought he'd see them ever again. "So why do you keep hurting him?!"

"Are you sure it's _me _who's hurting him?" comes the quiet reply, and something that has never happened before is now taking place; Shirou can feel himself shoved back towards the surface, and Atsuya seems to fade into nothingness, into a place where he cannot even be felt to exist. Shirou stares into Gouenji's face wide-eyed, now completely open and vulnerable. If Gouenji really does care about him... then why is his expression so cold right now? "I do care about you..." What, is he capable of reading his mind right now? "But," - Oh, there is a _but_. There is always a _but_. - "do you think you'll ever be able to find anyone who will love the both of you equally? Someone that _the two of you _both love, too? And then, you won't mind sharing?"

They both know there are no answers to these questions; not here, not now, not in these conditions. Shirou only gapes breathlessly as Gouenji finally stands up from the edge of the bed, glances at him solemnly, then gives a little, sad shake of his head, and exits the room without another word.

_Maybe, one day._

That night, for the first time in long, long years, Shirou cries himself to sleep in open, gasping sobs that he doesn't even try to muffle with anything. In the next room, Gouenji listens in silence, his lips pressed together so hard the skin becomes white.

Atsuya doesn't say a single thing.


End file.
